Nemo, 2009 Chapter 4
In a previous post, I published the third part to a story a wrote a while back. Here is the next installment.
Chapter 4
The helicopter carrying Dyss and Haas landed in Coyote Gulch. Dyss had dried himself in the chopper on the way over.
Dyss and Haas found their way over to the sight where Sven Faust’s body was submerged in the water. Haas stopped and talked with an approaching Lynd, while Dyss moved towards the body.
Dyss shone a flashlight onto the moss containing Sven’s final message.
“What do you suppose happened?” Dyss mused to himself.
Haas finished talking with Lynd and walked over.
“There are tons of quicksand sinkholes in the riverbed here,” Haas said. “This guy must have found the wrong one.”
“I’ve never heard of one this deep?” Dyss said skeptically.
“Me either.” Haas frowned, then pointed his flashlight at the moss. “3 andere,” Haas said. “It looks like 3 andere. Supposedly it means ‘3 others’ in German.”
“How many people did Koch say were in that group lost in Davis Gulch?” Dyss asked.
“Three,” Haas replied. Haas pulled out the map they had discovered in Davis Gulch. He pointed to one of the symbols on the back. “Where is the petroglyph of this spiral shape?” Haas asked.
Dyss pointed down the river. “It’s about two hundred yards downcanyon.”
Haas looked downcanyon. “Supposedly this guy had a backpack with him,” he said, “but they haven’t been able to find it yet.”
A pause.
“Come and see what the deceased wrote in the sand over here,” Haas said, pointing to a small dirt hill. “Supposedly this guy tested some water then walked over to a tree and scratched something in the sand.”
“What did he write?” Dyss asked.
“Don’t know exactly,” Haas said. “The guy obviously didn’t know English, but he was definitely trying to communicate something.”
Haas and Dyss found their way over to the strange looking tree where Sven had written in the sand.
Haas pointed the flashlight to the sand. Dyss leaned down and examined the writings in the sand.
“What do you think it means?” Haas asked.
“Not sure,” Dyss replied.
There were four etchings in the sand. The first was a drawing of an extremely simple stick figure. The second was a box with a long bottom line. The third was a strange looking ‘t’ that almost appeared to be a Chinese symbol. The final symbol was a simple arrow.
“The first symbol is just a stick figure,” Dyss said. “It could represent a man?” Dyss paused. “The next symbol looks like a box sitting on the ground.”
“This is pointless,” Haas said.
“Oh no, there’s a point to it,” Dyss joked. “What do you think the arrow is for?”
Haas’ head shot up at Dyss’ comment. He stood up tall and looked into the distance.
“You’re absolutely right,” Haas said excitedly. “There is a point. Let’s see the map we found in Davis Gulch.”
Dyss handed Haas the laminated map. Haas pointed to one of the x’s on the map.
”See, right here. We are right here at this x.”
“But what do all these x’s represent?” Dyss asked.
“It could be all the places the group from New York wanted to visit,” Haas answered, then pointed at another spot on the map. “See, here’s another x over at Davis Gulch. But look at the direction from here to Davis Gulch, where the group disappeared.”
Dyss stared at the map in bewilderment.
Haas knelt down next to the symbol in the sand and laid the map down next to it. Dyss knelt down next to him. Haas pointed to one of the walls of the canyon.
“That way’s north, right?” Haas said. “Let’s align the map right. Where is the arrow in the sand pointing?”
Dyss slowly stood up.
“It’s pointing straight to Davis Gulch,” Haas said, answering his own question. “It’s probably pointing right to where the group from New York disappeared.”
“This is crazy,” Dyss said. “There’s no way these two distress calls are related.”
“Why not?” Haas said. “This guy who died tonight, maybe he was part of the New York group. Maybe they chose to do different hikes today. Maybe he was playing some sort of a game with this message. Or maybe he somehow knew the group in Davis Gulch was in danger.”
“But what about the other three symbols?” Dyss asked.
A long pause.
“Three symbols, three missing people,” Haas said. “This guy wasn’t able to speak English. The last thing he writes down before he dies is ‘three andere’; three others. Somehow, this guy knew the group from New York.”
“We don’t know that,” Dyss said.
“Fine, let’s start with what we do know,” Haas said. “This guy, he comes into Coyote Gulch, he tests the waters then comes up here and draws this into the sand. And then he hikes upstream and falls into the quicksand. Before he drowns he writes ‘3 others’ in German in the moss on the wall next to him. He was clearly distressed about something, and kept trying to communicate it somehow.”
“Sounds about right,” Dyss said. “But why was he taking samples of the water?”
Another long pause.
“Isn’t Pastor Pollent a linguist?” Dyss asked. Pastor Pollent was a pastor of a local church in Escalante.
“Yeah, I think so,” Haas said. “Why?”
“Let’s take the map to him tomorrow,” Dyss said, “and see what he can make of the writings on the back of the map.”
Dyss surveyed the Coyote Gulch surroundings once more. “I guess there’s nothing more to learn tonight,” Dyss said. “Let’s retrieve the body and head home.”
————
The helicopter ride back to Escalante was a silent one.
————
Kimberly Ashton was a close personal aide to the President, and a former member of the Secret Service. She was seated at her desk in a small office in the White House. It was another late night for Ashton on November 21st, 2009. Ashton was a forty-two year old female with blonde hair.
Hillman, Ashton’s assistant, knocked on the door of the office and walked inside. Hillman was substantially older than Ashton. His suit gave him the appearance of being slender.
“We’ve just received a phone call,” Hillman said.
Ashton looked up. “What type of phone call?”
Hillman hesitated. “It’s a terrorist threat of some sort,” he said. “The analysts at Homeland Security do not believe that the caller represents an actual threat.” Hillman paused. “They think it’s a glorified prank call.”
Ashton looked closely at Hillman. “But you think there may be some credibility to it?”
“Yes,” Hillman replied.
“Just not enough to bother the President…” Ashton said.
Hillman frowned.
“I’ll take the call,” Ashton said.
“Thank you, Kimberly,” Hillman said. “It’s on line four.”
Ashton motioned for Hillman to sit down. Hillman walked further into the office and took the seat closest to Ashton’s phone. Ashton pressed the speaker button on the phone.
“This is Kimberly Ashton,” she spoke into the phone. “With whom am I speaking?”
The voice that replied was undisguised and clear.
“My name is Samuel Sarard. Let me speak to the President.”
“Unfortunately, he is unavailable at the moment,” Ashton replied.
“Unavailable?” Sarard said incredulously. “The President of the United States is unavailable to speak with a man capable of killing millions of his citizens?”
“The President does not answer every call of every person threatening to kill American citizens,” Ashton said calmly.
“Has anyone ever told you that you are a poor listener?” Sarard said. “I did not say I was threatening to kill them. I said I was capable of killing them. I am willing to forgo any unnecessary deaths if my demands are met.”
Ashton looked harshly at Hillman.
“I was not made aware that you had any demands,” Ashton said. “My current position enables me to perform many acts in the name of the President. I might be able to help you more than you think.” Ashton paused. “What are your demands?”
“So hasty to hear me out?” Sarard said.
“Like yourself, I hope to forgo any unnecessary deaths,” Ashton said, then paused. “What exactly is your plan of attack?”
Sarard replied calmly. “That is the second time you have misquoted me. You should learn to listen more closely. I said I was willing to forgo unnecessary deaths, not that I was hoping to.” Sarard laughed slowly. “Trust me, given the genius of my plan, I would love to see it come to fruition. And with the lack of support I’ve received thus far, it looks as though my hopes will be fulfilled.”
“I apologize for my misunderstanding,” Ashton replied quickly. “Believe me, you have my full and undivided attention. But in order for the Office of the President to even consider meeting a terrorist’s demands, I must know the full extent of the threat.”
“You fail to understand,” Sarard said. “The sagacity of my plan is that you can choose to meet my demands now or you will be forced to meet my demands after my plan has been set into motion.”
A long pause.
“I can see that my wisdom has fallen on deaf ears,” Sarard said. “Expect to receive a fax from me soon.” Sarard spoke his next words in a mimicking tone similar to Ashton’s. “I will send you a rough idea of the full extent of the threat.”
The phone clicked as Sarard hung up. Ashton turned the speaker off.
“Do you know where the call came from?” Ashton asked Hillman.
“Yes,” Hillman replied. “It was easy to trace. It was almost as if there was no effort to hide the call. Probably one of the reasons Homeland isn’t consider it a credible threat.”
“Well, let’s send a security team,” Ashton said.
“It wouldn’t do any good,” Hillman replied.
“What do you mean?” Ashton asked. “Where did the call originate from?”
Hillman hesitated. “Utah,” he said slowly.
Ashton looked directly at Hillman. “Where in Utah?” she asked.
“In the middle of Lake Powell.”
————
Laura Reddish sat in Sheriff Haas’ office. She was furiously scribbling notes as Sheriff Haas recounted the events of November 21st, 2009.
Reddish stood up and began pacing the room.
“So,” Reddish said, “at this point, all you and Jeffery Dyss knew was that you had a dead man in Coyote Gulch and a missing group in Davis Gulch.”
Haas nodded. “And both parties had an affinity for enigmatic puzzles.” He paused. “We had two impossibilities on our hands. One, there has never been a sinkhole in Coyote Gulch deep enough to bury a man.”
Reddish nodded. “It still seems unbelievable to me,” she said.
“Humans in general know nothing of the destructive nature of water,” Haas said. “They only of its life-giving power. This fundamental flaw is what made the terrorist attack possible all along.”
“And the second impossibility,” Reddish said. “The footprints of the New Yorkers’.”
“From the sight of the prints there was only one safe conclusion to make,” Haas said. “The group had walked into Lake Powell. There were no return footprints. The cliff walls were unscalable.”
“So,” Reddish said, “in Coyote Gulch, you had a cryptic message in the sand that presumably pointed to the spot in Davis Gulch where the group from New York went missing; the same spot where you found the map with sixteen x’s on it and the ‘Nemo, 2009’ carving.”
“But no definite idea about what it all meant,” Haas said. “Of course, I had already jumped to plenty of false conclusions, with plenty more to come the next day. I was trying to put together a 500-piece puzzle with only five pieces. I tried to force it all to fit together.”
Haas paused. “But Dyss was still impartial.”
“And you only found out about the phone call with the President’s aide and Sarard after the fact?” Reddish asked.
Haas nodded a few times. “Only Dyss was able to put everything together without that obvious tipoff,” he said.
“Let’s cut to the chase already,” Reddish said. “Why all this talk of a modern-day Nemo? Who is Jeffery Dyss really?”
Haas leaned back in his chair.
“In all of your research, I’m sure you’ve come across a certain name,” Haas said, then paused for a long time before he spoke again.
“What do you know about Everett Ruess?”
Continue reading the next chapter >>>
<<< Go back to the previous chapter
Chapter 4
The helicopter carrying Dyss and Haas landed in Coyote Gulch. Dyss had dried himself in the chopper on the way over.
Dyss and Haas found their way over to the sight where Sven Faust’s body was submerged in the water. Haas stopped and talked with an approaching Lynd, while Dyss moved towards the body.
Dyss shone a flashlight onto the moss containing Sven’s final message.
“What do you suppose happened?” Dyss mused to himself.
Haas finished talking with Lynd and walked over.
“There are tons of quicksand sinkholes in the riverbed here,” Haas said. “This guy must have found the wrong one.”
“I’ve never heard of one this deep?” Dyss said skeptically.
“Me either.” Haas frowned, then pointed his flashlight at the moss. “3 andere,” Haas said. “It looks like 3 andere. Supposedly it means ‘3 others’ in German.”
“How many people did Koch say were in that group lost in Davis Gulch?” Dyss asked.
“Three,” Haas replied. Haas pulled out the map they had discovered in Davis Gulch. He pointed to one of the symbols on the back. “Where is the petroglyph of this spiral shape?” Haas asked.
Dyss pointed down the river. “It’s about two hundred yards downcanyon.”
Haas looked downcanyon. “Supposedly this guy had a backpack with him,” he said, “but they haven’t been able to find it yet.”
A pause.
“What did he write?” Dyss asked.
“Don’t know exactly,” Haas said. “The guy obviously didn’t know English, but he was definitely trying to communicate something.”
Haas and Dyss found their way over to the strange looking tree where Sven had written in the sand.
Haas pointed the flashlight to the sand. Dyss leaned down and examined the writings in the sand.
“What do you think it means?” Haas asked.
“Not sure,” Dyss replied.
There were four etchings in the sand. The first was a drawing of an extremely simple stick figure. The second was a box with a long bottom line. The third was a strange looking ‘t’ that almost appeared to be a Chinese symbol. The final symbol was a simple arrow.
“The first symbol is just a stick figure,” Dyss said. “It could represent a man?” Dyss paused. “The next symbol looks like a box sitting on the ground.”
“This is pointless,” Haas said.
“Oh no, there’s a point to it,” Dyss joked. “What do you think the arrow is for?”
Haas’ head shot up at Dyss’ comment. He stood up tall and looked into the distance.
“You’re absolutely right,” Haas said excitedly. “There is a point. Let’s see the map we found in Davis Gulch.”
Dyss handed Haas the laminated map. Haas pointed to one of the x’s on the map.
”See, right here. We are right here at this x.”
“But what do all these x’s represent?” Dyss asked.
“It could be all the places the group from New York wanted to visit,” Haas answered, then pointed at another spot on the map. “See, here’s another x over at Davis Gulch. But look at the direction from here to Davis Gulch, where the group disappeared.”
Dyss stared at the map in bewilderment.
Haas knelt down next to the symbol in the sand and laid the map down next to it. Dyss knelt down next to him. Haas pointed to one of the walls of the canyon.
“That way’s north, right?” Haas said. “Let’s align the map right. Where is the arrow in the sand pointing?”
Dyss slowly stood up.
“It’s pointing straight to Davis Gulch,” Haas said, answering his own question. “It’s probably pointing right to where the group from New York disappeared.”
“This is crazy,” Dyss said. “There’s no way these two distress calls are related.”
“Why not?” Haas said. “This guy who died tonight, maybe he was part of the New York group. Maybe they chose to do different hikes today. Maybe he was playing some sort of a game with this message. Or maybe he somehow knew the group in Davis Gulch was in danger.”
“But what about the other three symbols?” Dyss asked.
A long pause.
“Three symbols, three missing people,” Haas said. “This guy wasn’t able to speak English. The last thing he writes down before he dies is ‘three andere’; three others. Somehow, this guy knew the group from New York.”
“We don’t know that,” Dyss said.
“Fine, let’s start with what we do know,” Haas said. “This guy, he comes into Coyote Gulch, he tests the waters then comes up here and draws this into the sand. And then he hikes upstream and falls into the quicksand. Before he drowns he writes ‘3 others’ in German in the moss on the wall next to him. He was clearly distressed about something, and kept trying to communicate it somehow.”
“Sounds about right,” Dyss said. “But why was he taking samples of the water?”
Another long pause.
“Isn’t Pastor Pollent a linguist?” Dyss asked. Pastor Pollent was a pastor of a local church in Escalante.
“Yeah, I think so,” Haas said. “Why?”
“Let’s take the map to him tomorrow,” Dyss said, “and see what he can make of the writings on the back of the map.”
Dyss surveyed the Coyote Gulch surroundings once more. “I guess there’s nothing more to learn tonight,” Dyss said. “Let’s retrieve the body and head home.”
————
The helicopter ride back to Escalante was a silent one.
————
Kimberly Ashton was a close personal aide to the President, and a former member of the Secret Service. She was seated at her desk in a small office in the White House. It was another late night for Ashton on November 21st, 2009. Ashton was a forty-two year old female with blonde hair.
Hillman, Ashton’s assistant, knocked on the door of the office and walked inside. Hillman was substantially older than Ashton. His suit gave him the appearance of being slender.
“We’ve just received a phone call,” Hillman said.
Ashton looked up. “What type of phone call?”
Hillman hesitated. “It’s a terrorist threat of some sort,” he said. “The analysts at Homeland Security do not believe that the caller represents an actual threat.” Hillman paused. “They think it’s a glorified prank call.”
Ashton looked closely at Hillman. “But you think there may be some credibility to it?”
“Yes,” Hillman replied.
“Just not enough to bother the President…” Ashton said.
Hillman frowned.
“I’ll take the call,” Ashton said.
“Thank you, Kimberly,” Hillman said. “It’s on line four.”
Ashton motioned for Hillman to sit down. Hillman walked further into the office and took the seat closest to Ashton’s phone. Ashton pressed the speaker button on the phone.
“This is Kimberly Ashton,” she spoke into the phone. “With whom am I speaking?”
The voice that replied was undisguised and clear.
“My name is Samuel Sarard. Let me speak to the President.”
“Unfortunately, he is unavailable at the moment,” Ashton replied.
“Unavailable?” Sarard said incredulously. “The President of the United States is unavailable to speak with a man capable of killing millions of his citizens?”
“The President does not answer every call of every person threatening to kill American citizens,” Ashton said calmly.
“Has anyone ever told you that you are a poor listener?” Sarard said. “I did not say I was threatening to kill them. I said I was capable of killing them. I am willing to forgo any unnecessary deaths if my demands are met.”
Ashton looked harshly at Hillman.
“I was not made aware that you had any demands,” Ashton said. “My current position enables me to perform many acts in the name of the President. I might be able to help you more than you think.” Ashton paused. “What are your demands?”
“So hasty to hear me out?” Sarard said.
“Like yourself, I hope to forgo any unnecessary deaths,” Ashton said, then paused. “What exactly is your plan of attack?”
Sarard replied calmly. “That is the second time you have misquoted me. You should learn to listen more closely. I said I was willing to forgo unnecessary deaths, not that I was hoping to.” Sarard laughed slowly. “Trust me, given the genius of my plan, I would love to see it come to fruition. And with the lack of support I’ve received thus far, it looks as though my hopes will be fulfilled.”
“I apologize for my misunderstanding,” Ashton replied quickly. “Believe me, you have my full and undivided attention. But in order for the Office of the President to even consider meeting a terrorist’s demands, I must know the full extent of the threat.”
“You fail to understand,” Sarard said. “The sagacity of my plan is that you can choose to meet my demands now or you will be forced to meet my demands after my plan has been set into motion.”
A long pause.
“I can see that my wisdom has fallen on deaf ears,” Sarard said. “Expect to receive a fax from me soon.” Sarard spoke his next words in a mimicking tone similar to Ashton’s. “I will send you a rough idea of the full extent of the threat.”
The phone clicked as Sarard hung up. Ashton turned the speaker off.
“Do you know where the call came from?” Ashton asked Hillman.
“Yes,” Hillman replied. “It was easy to trace. It was almost as if there was no effort to hide the call. Probably one of the reasons Homeland isn’t consider it a credible threat.”
“Well, let’s send a security team,” Ashton said.
“It wouldn’t do any good,” Hillman replied.
“What do you mean?” Ashton asked. “Where did the call originate from?”
Hillman hesitated. “Utah,” he said slowly.
Ashton looked directly at Hillman. “Where in Utah?” she asked.
“In the middle of Lake Powell.”
————
Laura Reddish sat in Sheriff Haas’ office. She was furiously scribbling notes as Sheriff Haas recounted the events of November 21st, 2009.
Reddish stood up and began pacing the room.
“So,” Reddish said, “at this point, all you and Jeffery Dyss knew was that you had a dead man in Coyote Gulch and a missing group in Davis Gulch.”
Haas nodded. “And both parties had an affinity for enigmatic puzzles.” He paused. “We had two impossibilities on our hands. One, there has never been a sinkhole in Coyote Gulch deep enough to bury a man.”
Reddish nodded. “It still seems unbelievable to me,” she said.
“Humans in general know nothing of the destructive nature of water,” Haas said. “They only of its life-giving power. This fundamental flaw is what made the terrorist attack possible all along.”
“And the second impossibility,” Reddish said. “The footprints of the New Yorkers’.”
“From the sight of the prints there was only one safe conclusion to make,” Haas said. “The group had walked into Lake Powell. There were no return footprints. The cliff walls were unscalable.”
“So,” Reddish said, “in Coyote Gulch, you had a cryptic message in the sand that presumably pointed to the spot in Davis Gulch where the group from New York went missing; the same spot where you found the map with sixteen x’s on it and the ‘Nemo, 2009’ carving.”
“But no definite idea about what it all meant,” Haas said. “Of course, I had already jumped to plenty of false conclusions, with plenty more to come the next day. I was trying to put together a 500-piece puzzle with only five pieces. I tried to force it all to fit together.”
Haas paused. “But Dyss was still impartial.”
“And you only found out about the phone call with the President’s aide and Sarard after the fact?” Reddish asked.
Haas nodded a few times. “Only Dyss was able to put everything together without that obvious tipoff,” he said.
“Let’s cut to the chase already,” Reddish said. “Why all this talk of a modern-day Nemo? Who is Jeffery Dyss really?”
Haas leaned back in his chair.
“In all of your research, I’m sure you’ve come across a certain name,” Haas said, then paused for a long time before he spoke again.
“What do you know about Everett Ruess?”
Continue reading the next chapter >>>
<<< Go back to the previous chapter
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